Your Past is Never Far
by gleefan13
Summary: An exploration of Brittany's past. There are somethings you don't want anyone, not even your best friend, to know. Warning: mentions of child abuse.
1. Part 1

**A/N: This story is based on a prompt from the glee angst meme over at livejournal. **

_**Part 1**_

Brittany S. Pierce wasn't always Brittany S. Pierce, up until the age of six Brittany was Brittany S., well she can't usually remember what her last name used to be. She's in the first grade when someone finally notices that perhaps there is something wrong. She's miles behind the other kids, she can't count past ten, recite the alphabet, or spell her name, she shows up without a lunch so frequently that the teacher takes to bringing food for her, and she only speaks when spoken to. However, it isn't until the day that her teacher notices the bruises that social services gets called.

Brittany is almost seven when she gets placed with the Pierces. Mrs. Pierce is nothing like Brittany's mother. Firstly, she cries a lot, she cries when she realizes that Brittany doesn't know how to tie her shoes or zip a zipper, she cries when she tries to hug Brittany and the little girl cringes, and she cries the night that Brittany spills her milk at supper and won't come out from under the table for two hours. Secondly, she takes great care of Brittany, she lets her eat three times a day everyday, she takes her shopping for new clothes, she doesn't get mad when the only way that Brittany can sleep is with all of the lights on, and she never hits her, not even when Brittany wets the bed. Most importantly though, she tells Brittany she loves her all of the time.

Brittany is ten when the Pierces pack up and move to Lima, Ohio. With her blonde hair and blue eyes Brittany looks just as much theirs as her new baby sister and when everyone assumes she is their biological child, the Pierces don't correct them. By now Brittany can count past ten, spell her name, and tie her shoes. She probably won't ever be the smartest person in a room but, all things considered, her parents are incredibly proud. In three years Brittany has changed so much that no one would ever guess that this sunny child had once been that terrified little girl who only spoke when spoken to. If you know where to look though, there are signs that she is still that girl. Though she has managed to downgrade to only needing a nightlight by her bed, she is still afraid of the dark and there's a stack of blankets in her armoire because, though both the pediatrician and the psychologist keep assuring her parents that she'll outgrow it, she still frequently wets the bed.

Brittany is thirteen when she comes home from school one afternoon in tears. Her father is ready to march down to the middle school and take care of whoever has made his little girl cry but her mother settles him down. It doesn't take them long to discern the problem, she's been invited to a sleepover, something they're not sure how she has managed to avoid before now, and, though the nightlight by her bed disappeared sometime last year, the stack of blankets in her armoire remains. Brittany might not be the smartest girl in her class but she isn't stupid, she knows that bed wetting isn't normal at her age; her little sister isn't quite four yet and their parents don't keep extra blankets stacked in her closest. Her parents don't know what to do for her, though the pediatrician and the psychologist continue to tell them she should outgrow it, she is now well beyond the age where she ought to have full bladder control. So, even though they agree that it isn't the best solution, they provide Brittany with an excuse as to why she can't sleep over. This strategy might have worked if the person hosting the party wasn't Santana Lopez; Santana decides that Brittany is her best friend and that if she can't sleep over no one can. The guilt turns out to be too much for Brittany and she reluctantly finds herself at her first ever sleepover. Being Santana's best friend does however have its perks, while everyone else has to sleep on the floor Brittany gets to share Santana's bed. When she wakes up in the morning to dry sheets, Brittany has never been more relieved.

Brittany is fourteen almost fifteen when she decides that Santana is magical. She has just returned from a week long cheerleading camp and is sitting at the dinner table when she informs her parents that Santana is like her lucky charm, but not the cereal kind. Since that first sleepover she has shared a bed with Santana countless times and not once has she woken up to wet bedding. Her parents don't argue with her because they would like to believe for her sake that it is more than just a coincidence that she has never wet the bed while sharing it with her best friend. Though Brittany may have never wet the bed while sharing it with Santana, she still wets the bed at least three times a month and the pediatrician and the psychologist have stopped telling her parents that she will outgrow it; they never specifically say she won't outgrow it, they just never say that she will anymore. The psychologist explains that some trauma is just too difficult to ever get over completely, which makes Brittany's mom cry the way she used to cry all the time when Brittany first came to live with them.

Brittany is sixteen when her lucky charm fails her. Her parents and her little sister are away for the night and Santana is sleeping over. Brittany knows that they would never admit it but her parents don't like to leave her home alone. This fact usually works in Brittany's favour because any night she gets to spend with Santana is a good night, but the night that the magic quits working Brittany wishes for an instant that she had never even met Santana. There are some things you don't want anyone, not even your best friend, to know.

xxxxxx

Santana is a light sleeper, so when Brittany sits up in bed somewhere around three in the morning it wakes her up. It takes a minute for her groggy brain to realize that something isn't quite right and another minute for it to register that she's damp. "Brittany?" she asks sleepily.

"I think you should go home," Brittany blurts out much too quickly.

"Go home?" Santana sits up at this, the fog around her brain quickly fading, "it's like three in the morning Brit. What is going on?"

Brittany just looks at her nervously and shrugs. Santana waits expectantly but Brittany doesn't say anything else, she just starts chewing on her lip. When she gives up waiting for Brittany to say something, Santana re-registers that she is damp and peels back the covers. At this action Brittany makes a noise that Santana can't quite place until she realizes what has caused the dampness, "Brit," she asks softly, "did you have an accident?"

Brittany looks down at her hands. The embarrassment is overwhelming and she wishes she could just disappear.

"Brittany it's okay," Santana reassures her, "it's really not that big of a deal."

This reassurance doesn't seem to help the blonde who won't look up so Santana reaches over and grabs Brittany's hand to get her attention. The sudden movement startles Brittany and she jumps back, "Hey it's okay," Santana soothes tucking a piece of hair behind Brittany's ear, "Do you want me to call your mom?"

Brittany shakes her head at this, there's no use bothering her parents this late at night, it's not like they can do anything anyway.

Brittany still won't look at her and Santana is starting to get worried, "we'll just change the blankets, I know you have a bunch in your armoire," at this statement Santana trails off realizing that these blankets might be there for a reason. She wants to ask Brittany but, since Brittany is still basically non-responsive, she knows now is not the right time.

"I'll do it," Brittany finally says something, though she's still staring at her hands, "you shower."

"Or you can shower and I'll change the bedding," Santana tells her, "you're a lot wetter than I am." As soon as she says it, Santana knows she has chosen the wrong words, Brittany's head hangs lower and Santana quickly scrambles trying to fix it, "or we can both change the bedding and we can shower together."

The corners of Brittany's mouth turn up in a small smile but she shakes her head, she's much too embarrassed for that.

"Look Britt, if you want we can sit here like this all night. I don't care." Santana tells her and she means it. It might not be the most comfortable way to spend a night but for Britt she'll do it. "Just look at me for a sec okay?

After a long minute Brittany finally looks up from her hands and at Santana, though she won't meet her eyes, "that's a bit better," Santana reassures, "look, you'll be more comfortable if you shower. Please have a shower and let me change the bedding. Please." Santana doesn't have to beg for anything very often so it is something she is not used to and she sighs with relief when Brittany nods.

Half an hour later the bedding is changed and they have both showered. They are now sitting facing each other on the bed neither particularly sure what to say. Brittany still won't meet Santana's eyes and it is clear that she is embarrassed. Santana is the first to break the silence, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I meant it. It's not a big deal."

"My mother is a drug addict." Brittany blurts out.

Santana isn't sure what she is expecting Brittany to tell her but that certainly isn't it, "Britt, I'm pretty sure your mom isn't a drug addict."

"Not my mom," Brittany clarifies like it is the most obvious thing in the world, "my real mother."

Santana really wants to be supportive but she has no idea what Brittany is talking about. Luckily she doesn't have to say anything for Brittany to continue

"I'm adopted."

This revelation shocks Santana, she can't figure why she doesn't already know something clearly so important about her best friend, "why didn't you tell me before."

Brittany shrugs, "sometimes I forget," she sighs, "the rest of the time I like to pretend that I forget."

There's something about the sadness in Brittany's voice that makes Santana guess that Brittany doesn't mean she was adopted when she was a baby. She reaches and grabs Brittany's hand. Lacing their fingers together she squeezes gently, "you don't have to tell me anything else if you don't want to.

Brittany is silent for awhile and Santana thinks she isn't going to say anything else but eventually she does speak, "mom says some people shouldn't be parents. Did you know that people aren't supposed to hit you ever, not even when you wet the bed?" Brittany says the last part like this fact still surprises her even though no one has hit her in ten years.

"Yes I know that," Santana reply's evenly though she's seething inside and, even though she knows she should let Brittany tell the story at her own pace, she can't help but ask a question, "How old were you when you got adopted?"

"Um…" Brittany starts, numbers weren't really her thing and those first years living with the Pierces all seemed to meld together in her mind, "I can't remember," then she does remember something, "I was six when the lady showed up at school and wouldn't let me go home."

Six is a lot of years is all Santana can think and with the small pieces of the story that Brittany has provided she is already coming up with infinite possibilities for those years, each more horrific then the next, "I'm sorry," is all Santana can manage to say.

"Why," Brittany asks and Santana isn't exactly surprised at the blonde's confusion.

"I'm sorry that someone hurt you," Santana clarifies. She really wishes that Brittany would look her in the eye because she's having a hard time figuring out what is going through the blonde's brain.

"Oh," Brittany shrugs, "that was a long time ago."

Santana squeezes her hand gently again, "is that why you wet the bed?" She asks, thinking that this can be the only logical explanation for Brittany bringing this up now.

Brittany looks at her hands again still obviously ashamed, "that's what the psychic thinks."

Santana smiles a bit at this obvious wrong word choice, "do you mean the psychologist?"

"Yes," Brittany responds, "that's what I said isn't it?"

"Almost," Santana tells her, "Brittany, it's really important that you look at me now okay?"

It takes a minute but finally blue eyes meet brown, "It makes me angry that someone hurt you but it doesn't change how I feel about you. I wouldn't lie to you, not ever, okay, so whatever I say is the truth. It doesn't matter that you were adopted or if you wet the bed. I don't want you to be embarrassed about this, you can't control it, it's not your fault, and it doesn't matter, I love you. You got that, I love you, no matter what." With that Santana pulls Brittany tightly into a hug.

"Okay," the blonde whispers into Santana's shoulder, "I love you too."

Still intertwined the two girls lie down on the bed. Nothing else is said between the two, it has been a long night and they are both exhausted. Santana knows that there is so much more of Brittany's story that she needs to know, but that will come with time. For now she is alright with just lying beside Brittany and listening to her breathing. It isn't until the blonde's breathing evens out and Santana is sure that she is sleeping that she lets herself drift off too.


	2. Part 2

**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews, the feedback is greatly appreciated. I'm not exactly sure where this is going but I have at least one more chapter planned.**

_**Part 2**_

They don't talk about it the next morning, or the day after that, or the day after that. It gets to the point where Santana starts to wonder if she imagined the whole thing, of course she knows that isn't actually the case, but it's almost a comforting thought. After all, a world in which Brittany never uttered the words "did you know that people aren't supposed to hit you ever" is a world where Santana wants to live; even if that probably also means she's living in a world where she has vivid hallucinations. Of course knowing that she didn't imagine the whole thing creates a problem, that problem being that, no matter how hard she tries to convince herself otherwise, she isn't as alright as she wants to be with the fact that they haven't talked about it. Santana's pretty sure that the only thing worse than knowing exactly what happened to Brittany is not knowing exactly what happened to Brittany; she's seen one too many episodes of Law and Order SVU and Judging Amy to simply live in ignorant bliss. Just the thought that anybody has ever dared raise a hand to her best friend makes Santana so unspeakably mad that in the weeks that follow Brittany's confession she has a hard time controlling her rage. Oddly enough, no one really seems to notice, sure she snaps at people a lot, but what else is new.

It's almost two weeks to the day when the subject comes up again. Santana is spending the day at Brittany's house and they're settled on the couch watching the cartoon network, something that, though she would never admit it, Santana actually enjoys and not just because of the goofy grin Brittany always seems to get when they change to this station. She lifts her head off the other girl's shoulder and watches her for a moment, Brittany is fully invested in the plot of the latest cartoon and she's practically bouncing in excitement. Santana finds herself smiling and she can't help but reflect on the fact that it is so easy not to focus on the rage that she's been feeling lately when she's around the blonde who seems to perpetually exude happiness.

"Hey Brit, do you want some popcorn?" She asks, knowing the answer but waiting to hear it before getting up.

"Mmm hmm," the blonde nods but she doesn't turn her head to look at Santana, she is now actually bouncing in her seat.

Santana just chuckles, getting up she leaves Brittany in the living room and heads for the kitchen. She isn't surprised to find Brittany's mom in there and pauses to say hi before heading for the pantry. Santana's been here enough times for it to not be odd for her to treat Brittany's house as her own.

"Hi Santana," the older woman greats her, "What are you girls watching in there?"

"Some show about gummi bears," Santana responds, "Brittany seems pretty excited about it being on."

"Aw yes," Brittany's mom smiles knowingly, "she has become particularly fond of that show, of course now she won't eat gummi bears or broccoli, but that's Brittany for you."

The dark haired girl grins at this because that sure does sound a lot like Brittany. Finally finding what she is looking for she pulls out a bag of microwavable popcorn from the cupboard and heads for the microwave. She has just set the timer when Mrs. Pierce sets the bowl they usually use for popcorn down on the counter in front of her and just stares at her for a moment. Santana is starting to feel uncomfortable when finally the woman speaks.

"You know if you have any questions you can ask me," she pauses for a moment, "about Brittany's past I mean."

Santana can't help the shocked expression that washes over her face; of all the ways she imagined that she might learn something more about Brittany's past, she had never considered this.

Seeing Santana's expression, Brittany's mom continues, "It's alright, Brittany told me what happened, well that and the bedding sort of gave it away. She won't mind if you want to ask me something, she just doesn't really like to talk about it much herself. The part she doesn't like people to know about is the bed wetting and you already know that." The older woman pauses reaching over and putting her hand on Santana's shoulder and smiling gently at her, "by the way, I've been meaning to say thank you. I'm so glad Brittany has you."

Santana nods in response but she can't help but feel a tad embarrassed, not freaking out over what happened is not something she feels she deserves praise for, after all, how else was she supposed to react? She looks away from Mrs. Pierce and instead watches the popcorn popping in the microwave while she contemplates what has just been said. There are so many things that she wants to know but she feels that asking them might somehow be betraying Brittany. Finally she decides that if Brittany's mom says it's alright than it can't hurt to ask at least one question. "What was she like back then?"

Brittany's mom sighs a bit, her smile disappearing, but she starts talking almost immediately, "she was scarred of everything, and I don't just mean of the stuff you would expect like the dark or people touching her. The TV absolutely terrified her, she jumped every time someone turned it on for six months. The first time I tried to blow dry her hair her eyes got as wide as saucers and she started to whimper, I don't think the poor thing had ever seen a blow dryer before, let alone had someone try and use one on her. It wasn't just things that scarred her either, she was afraid to say or do anything, like she was sure she was going to get in trouble.

When she first moved in with us she was always so quiet and so still, you could leave her in a room and come back half an hour later and she would be exactly how you left her, she wouldn't have moved an inch at all. The dancing helped her get over the need to be still but it took us a very long time to convince her that she could say whatever was on her mind and that we wouldn't be mad at her for it. I still think that she forgets sometimes, a lot of the time her thoughts tend to come out in short random bursts, as if she suddenly remembers that she's allowed to talk and says the first thing that comes to her mind." The woman pauses her eyes getting a little misty at the thought that no matter how much they loved Brittany there would probably always be some lasting effects of the first years of her life. It isn't long before she is continuing though.

"You know, even though she had all of this hurt and fear, she was still the most amazing child, so kind and sweet and gentle. Those first few years were pretty difficult but they were very much worth it, she was very much worth."

Before she can say anything further or before Santana can ask anything else Brittany comes bounding into the kitchen. "I thought we were having popcorn, you're taking forever San…" she trails off stopping in her tracks at the sight of her mother and Santana. She contemplates them for a moment before asking, "watcha talking about?"

Santana looks like a dear trapped in headlights but Brittany's mom just smiles, "you," she says. She has never lied to Brittany and she isn't about to start now.

Santana holds her breath waiting for Brittany's response, the blonde just grins, "That's because I'm the only thing you have in common."

Santana lets her breath out as Brittany bounds the rest of the way forward until she is touching distance away, "well that and I'm fabulous." With that Brittany giggles and engulfs Santana in a hug.

"Yes you are," Santana agrees and she has never meant anything more in her entire life.


	3. Part 3

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! Also, I'm still not sure where this story is going but since this part turned into something completely different than what I orginally sat down to write, there will be at least one more part. **

_**Part 3**_

The girls are at Santana's house the first time they share a bed after the bed wetting incident, it's the day after Santana's conversation with Brittany's mom, and when it's time to go to sleep, Brittany lingers in the doorway to Santana's room much longer than she needs too.

"What if it happens again?" Brittany asks worriedly and there's no doubt what she means by it.

"Then it happens again," Santana answers and there's no doubt that what she means is that it doesn't matter. Brittany still doesn't move though, so Santana adds, "I have a washing machine, now turn off the light and get into the bed."

Brittany does as she's told. When they wake up in the morning the bedding is dry and Brittany wonders if maybe the magic is working again and, more importantly, she wonders if maybe it will last this time.

The magic does work for a while but inevitably, perhaps simply because the frequency with which the two girls share a bed increases, it happens again.

xxxxxx

The second time Santana wakes up to wet bedding it is nothing like the first time. She doesn't even realize that she's damp because she's much too busy focusing on Brittany who is screaming beside her. When she reaches out to try and comfort the blonde the other girl shrugs away from her and in the process falls out of the bed. The thud as she hits the ground echoes loudly and for a moment there is silence as the blonde's screaming ceases. However, as Santana scrambles out of the bed to make sure Brittany is okay, she freezes because Brittany is now huddled in a ball against the wall and she is repeating the word no over and over and over again.

Thankfully they are at Brittany's house and Brittany's parents are home and it doesn't take them long to come barrelling through the door. If it were any other night Santana might comment on how she really didn't need to know that Mr. Pierce slept in boxers but this isn't any other night and she's too paralyzed with fear to do anything but watch as Mrs. Pierce kneels in front of Brittany's huddled form.

"The light," Mrs. Pierce says, the panic evident in her voice, "someone turn the light on now."

Mr. Pierce reacts quickly, fumbling to find the switch, which is good because Santana remains frozen in her spot unable to move.

With the light on Santana can now see Brittany's face clearly, her eyes are wide and they're darting all over the room. Brittany's mom's hands are fluttering near her daughter's face but she isn't touching her and she's whispering soothingly, "Brittany you're at home, we're in your room, it's me mom, your daddy is here too, everything's fine, you don't have to be scared, it's okay honey."

Brittany's mom continues to repeat these words over and over again like a mantra while both Mr. Pierce and Santana remain where they are standing. It takes a few minutes but Brittany's eyes eventually quit their incessant pattern back and forth across the room and settle on her mother, her shoulder's sag forward a bit and she sighs as the last no dies on her lips. Immediately her mom's hands quit fluttering and she engulfs Brittany in a hug and it doesn't take Brittany's dad long to approach and join in the hug. It occurs to Santana then that Mr. Pierce had, unlike her, hung back not because he didn't know what Brittany needed but because he knew exactly what she needed.

The family remains huddled together for several minutes, all the while Santana remains frozen in her spot, still unable to move at all. Finally the Pierce's break apart and Mrs. Pierce helps Brittany up and leads her into the adjoining bathroom while Mr. Pierce approaches Santana.

"Santana honey," Brittany's dad tells her cautiously, obviously worried about startling her, "you're wet. You can use the shower downstairs if you want."

At this Santana gives him a strange look but she looks down and sure enough she is damp. It takes her a minute to realize that Brittany must have wet the bed and when she does, "oh" is all she manages to get out.

"I'm sure Brittany has extra pyjama's," Brittany's dad adds when Santana doesn't move.

"I…" Santana starts but she still really can't form a coherent thought. Her gaze moves to the bathroom door, "Brittany…"

"Is okay," Mr. Pierce assures her, "My wife will get her taken care of."

"I don't understand," Santana finally manages to say, "before…the last time this happened it wasn't like this at all. She was…she was fine, embarrassed, but fine. It wasn't like this at all."

"It usually isn't," Mr. Pierce explains, "it's been ten months since she had a nightmare like this. I'm sorry you had to be here to see this, I know it can be scary but she'll be okay, I promise, she's a tough cookie." He watches Santana carefully for a minute and then adds, "now how about that shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better."

Santana's not sure much is going to make her feel better but with one last look at the closed bathroom door Santana says, "okay" and lets Mr. Pierce lead her out of the room.

When they get out into the hallway, Santana notices that Brittany's little sister is standing just outside her bedroom door looking worried.

"You know where everything for the shower is right?" Mr. Pierce asks and when Santana nods he continues, "Why don't you go on down then?" As he heads towards his youngest daughter he adds, "We'll be in the kitchen when you're done."

When Santana finishes her shower, as instructed, she heads towards the kitchen. Brittany and her mom must still be upstairs because the only two in the kitchen are Brittany's dad and her little sister. At the sight of Santana, the little blonde girl bounces towards her with an energy that reminds Santana of Brittany and asks, "How many marshmallows do you want?"

"What?" Santana asks confused.

"For your hot chocolate, how many marshmallows do you want? We always have hot chocolate after…" the little girl trails off not finishing her sentence but Santana understands exactly what she's trying to say.

"Umm two I guess?"

"Only two?"

Santana whips around at the sound of Mrs. Pierce's voice from behind her. Mrs. Pierce smiles gently at Santana as she steps into the kitchen and heads towards her husband and youngest child. Santana notices that Brittany, whose hair is wet and is in fresh pyjama's, is lingering just outside the threshold to the kitchen. Without even thinking about it Santana steps towards her.

The girls stand facing each other for several minutes in the hallway just outside the kitchen and it's Brittany who speaks first, mumbling, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Santana answers quickly and she means it. Why exactly should Brittany be sorry when Santana's the one who stood there frozen like an idiot, if anybody should be sorry it's her and she's about to say so when Brittany starts talking again.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Brittany asks softly.

Santana's confused by this question, Brittany's the one who fell out of bed, but Brittany seems to be expecting an answer so she tells her, "no."

Brittany smiles at this response, "good because one time I punched my dad right in the face. I'm pretty sure he didn't like explaining that he didn't get his black eye in a cool bar fight but from an eight year old girl."

Brittany giggles at the memory and Santana can't help but smile at her. When the giggling dies down Santana asks her, "Are you okay?"

"Ya I'm fine," Brittany tells her, "are you?"

"Of course I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" Santana responds quickly but for unknown reasons she can feel the moisture starting to build in her eyes.

"San…" Brittany starts.

"I was just worried okay." Santana spits out quickly biting her lip to keep the tears from falling.

"I know," Brittany reassures her stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the shorter girl, "I know."

"You're sure you're okay?" Santana mumbles into the blonde's shoulder.

"I'm sure," Brittany tells her adding, "It was just a nightmare, it happens."

Santana can't help but want to cringe or scream at the nonchalance with which Brittany informs her that nightmares like that just happen but she allows herself to focus instead on the way Brittany's arms feel wrapped around her and she quickly gets her emotions under control.

The girls stand wrapped in each other's' arms for several minutes before Brittany speaks up, "Now I don't know about you but I want some hot chocolate."

"Ya hot chocolate sounds pretty good." Santana agrees and she takes Brittany's hand and they head into the kitchen together.


	4. Part 4

**A/N: Okay so I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record but a) still have no clue what I'm doing b) this still isn't what I had in mind when I said I had a 'third' part planned. However, what I have determined this week is that there is**** just something about the idea that Brittany has this incredibly terrible past that I can't make leave my brain, so I think it's safe for me to say that there will be more to come. Also, I just wanted to point out that this part is a tad different than the past few and could really probably fit in anywhere after the first part. It sort of flips back and forth so hopefully it isn't too confusing. Anyway, I'm rambling so I'm going to stop.**

_**Part 4**_

Brittany doesn't usually think too long or too hard about her past, well to be a fair Brittany doesn't usually think too long or too hard about anything, but she especially try's to avoid thoughts about her past. This strategy actually tends to works fairly well for her; after all she wasn't lying when she told Santana that she sometimes forgets about being adopted. The problem is that more and more lately she finds that thoughts keep sneaking through.

Sometimes she finds herself wondering what her life would be like if she had never become Brittany S. Pierce, if she didn't move to Lima, or if she never met Santana. Thinking like this mostly just gives her a headache, which is why she doesn't do it very often, but ever since the bed wetting incident she can't seem to help the frequency with which she thinks these things. Of course playing the 'what if' game always leads her to thoughts about that day, the day that changed everything.

xxxxxx

After she finds out about it, Santana usually thinks much too long and much too hard about Brittany's past. She fills a great deal of her time going over and over the details she does know about Brittany's past and speculating on the details that she doesn't, well that and plotting ways that she might be able to kill the woman who gave birth to Brittany. One thing that Santana has determined recently is that it is completely possible to hate a perfect stranger more than you have ever hated anyone before in your entire life, which is sort of ridiculous considering that, for all Santana knows, the woman might already be dead.

Sometimes, when she's not busy plotting the death of a person whose name she doesn't even know, she finds herself wondering what her life would be like if her dad had actually taken the offer he got from the larger hospital in Cleveland when she was seven and they had subsequently moved away from Lima, or if Brittany had never been adopted by the Pierce's and subsequently never moved to Lima. These thoughts always lead her to thoughts about that day, the day that changed everything.

xxxxxx

The day that changes Brittany's life forever is an unseasonably warm Tuesday in December but of course Brittany doesn't remember these details, actually, Brittany doesn't remember much about the day at all. It's probably because she's six and feverishly delirious on the particular Tuesday in question but, whatever the reason, the things Brittany does remember about that day mostly seem trivial in the grand scheme of things. She remembers that she almost misses the bus that morning, that the blanket on the cot in her school's office feels scratchy on her arms when her teacher wraps it around her, that the lady who shows up at the school to take her away has red hair and green shoes, and that at the hospital they give her a grape popsicle. No matter how hard she tries she cannot understand why she can remember that the popsicle was grape and not orange but she can't remember the important things, like what the last thing she said to her mother was or what the last thing her mother said to her was.

xxxxxx

The day that changes Santana's life forever is an unseasonably cold Tuesday in September, she remembers all of these details of course but not because she recognizes at the time the significance of the day. She remembers these details instead because of how incredibly angry she gets that morning when her mom won't let her wear the outfit she so carefully picked out for the first day of the fifth grade. Instead, her mom makes her wear a sweater, which Santana tries to change out of, but at ten she isn't quite on her 'A' game yet and gets caught. Naturally, Santana can't remember every detail about that day but she does remember very clearly the important things, like what the first thing she said to Brittany was and what the first thing Brittany said to her was.

xxxxxx

That Tuesday in December Brittany gets roughly shaken awake by her mother.

"You're going to be late," the woman tells her as she hastily pulls the covers back, "I can't take you to school, you know that you can't miss the bus."

Brittany holds her breath for a moment as the covers get pulled back but exhales with relief when she realizes that her sheets are dry before curling up into a tighter ball.

"Come on get up," her mother urges as she throws pants and a top in the direction of the bed.

Brittany feels terrible, her head is pounding and her tummy hurts, and not in the she's hungry kind of way that it usually does. She doesn't say anything though, just lies there.

"Brittany," her mother warns, the volume of her voice rising, "I told you to get up."

At the tone in her mother's voice Brittany quickly sits up, trying her best to ignore how terrible she feels and scrambles to put her clothes on. She knows her mother's patience is wearing thin and that is never a good thing.

She quickly gets changed and brushes her teeth before heading for the front door. She's running too far behind to even consider heading into the kitchen, not that she would have necessarily been fed breakfast even if she wasn't running late.

"Where's your coat Brittany?" her mother asks her as she hands the little girl her back pack.

"I don't know," Brittany answers quietly looking around but not spotting it.

"Well we don't have time to look, you need to take better care of your things," her mother chastises, opening the door and motioning for Brittany to hurry up because the bus is pulling up out front.

"Bye," the blonde haired child mumbles quickly as she rushes past her mother, the woman doesn't say anything just watches as her daughter gets on the bus before going back inside.

Brittany falls asleep on the bus ride to school and is jostled awake as the bus grinds to a halt in front of the school. If possible, she's feeling worse than she did when she first woke up and she's cold, it may be unseasonably warm but it is December and she's not wearing a jacket.

She doesn't pay much attention to the morning lesson and when the bell rings for recess she doesn't even move. Her teacher is concerned, sure the little girl is usually pretty quiet but she tends to like recess and she's never this listless. As she approaches and kneels beside Brittany's desk, the child doesn't even look up at her, "Are you okay Brittany?"

The little girl does turn her head to look at her now, albeit slowly, but she just shrugs.

Her teacher raises her hand to Brittany's forehead to check her temperature and can't help but notice that the little girl cringes, "I just want to see if you're warm," her teacher soothes, frowning when she feels the heat radiating off the child, "I think you're sick, we better call your mom."

Not surprisingly, they can't get a hold of Brittany's mom and without any other real options they leave her to sleep on the little cot they keep in the school's office for the rest of the morning. When her teacher comes to check on her at lunch, the little girl is still burning up and they still aren't having any luck getting a hold of her mother. She decides that the child may feel better if she eats something so she shakes her awake much more gently then Brittany's mother shook her awake that morning.

Brittany whimpers as the covers get pulled away and the cold air hits her.

"Oh Brittany honey I think you had an accident," the woman tells her gently as she sees Brittany's soaked pants.

Brittany was much too groggy to actually realize that she is wet but at these words she instinctively covers her head and curls up into a tight ball.

"Hey, it's alright," her teacher soothes trying not to worry at the child's reaction, "we'll just get you changed."

Luckily they keep some extra clothes at the school for incidents like this, so it isn't too big of a deal. It takes her awhile but eventually she coaxes Brittany into a standing position and leads her to the washroom.

Attributing the child's reluctance to move to her fever, the teacher decides that it will probably be easier if she just helps Brittany get changed. As she lifts the little girl's shirt over her head she can't contain her gasp, the child's torso is covered in bruises in various shades of blue, purple, and yellow. She stares for a moment in horror before she asks, "Brittany sweetheart, who did this to you?"

Brittany just looks at her feet.

"Honey, it's okay, you can tell me," her teacher urges, "who hurt you?"

Brittany continues to stare at her feet but her bottom lip begins to quiver and she whimpers as her teacher touches one of the nastier bruises.

"It's okay," the woman reassures quickly pulling her hand away.

Her teacher doesn't ask her again who has hurt her, she just helps Brittany finish changing, trying hard to keep the tears from her eyes as she finds more bruises on Brittany's legs, and lays her back down on the cot, lunch completely forgotten. It doesn't take Brittany long to drift back off to sleep.

An hour later the lady with the red hair and green shoes shows up at the school and Brittany gets shaken awake for the third time that day. The lady takes Brittany to the hospital where everything is bright and scary and confusing. She gets examined by a doctor and they ask her all kinds of questions and use big words that she doesn't understand.

Later when she's settled in a bed with an IV in her arm and eating a grape popsicle the lady with the red hair comes back, taking a seat beside her bed. "You're safe now Brittany. We're not going to let anyone hurt you anymore and I know everything is really scary right now but you're such a brave girl and it's going to be okay."

Brittany doesn't say anything for a long time her eyes wide and fearful as she watches the woman sitting beside her. Finally she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper, "Where's my mommy?"

xxxxxx

That Tuesday in September Brittany shows up five minutes late and with her mother to her first day of the fifth grade, she doesn't care that this isn't cool, doesn't even know what that word means actually, all she knows is that the fluttering in her stomach doesn't feel quite as bad when she's holding the hand of the woman she started calling mom two years ago. They're late because Brittany had an accident last night and woke up to wet bedding, something that certainly hasn't helped with the fluttering in her stomach.

They stop at the door to the classroom, her mom letting go of Brittany's hand and setting down the baby carrier before wrapping her arms around Brittany, "you're going to be fine," she reassures the girl she wholeheartedly considers her child, "and I'll be home all day so you can call if you need to." Pulling away from Brittany she adds, "I love you."

"Okay," Brittany manages to get out, her voice barely above a whisper before she walks into her new classroom to the stares of her classmates.

As the blonde walks into the classroom Santana can't help but glare in her direction, her day just keeps getting worse and worse. First her mother makes her put on a sweater instead of the cute shirt she had picked out, then she shows up at school and finds out that she won't get to sit beside her best friend Noah like she usually does because apparently there is a new student whose stupid last name fits perfectly between Lopez and Puckerman, and now her hopes that this new student wasn't actually going to show up are dashed.

"Class this is Brittany Pierce," they're teacher introduces her before directing Brittany to the seat beside Santana. Santana puts on her best scowl as the blonde approaches to let her know how annoyed she is but the other girl doesn't even look up as she takes her seat.

When the teacher hands out papers that they're supposed to fill out about their summer Santana's bad day continues to get worse, she realizes that with all of her sulking this morning she must have forgot her new pencil case at home. So while everyone starts on their assignments she just stares at her paper. A voice from beside her startles her out of her thoughts.

"You can have one of my pencils," the blonde offers cheerily, smiling brightly, "you don't have one right?"

Santana really wants to scowl at this girl who took her best friend's seat and refuse to take the pencil but there's something about the way that the blonde is smiling at her that makes her change her mind, plus she really needs a pencil, "um thanks," she tells her as she reaches over and takes the pencil that the other girl is holding out for her.

"You're welcome," Brittany smiles even wider, if possible, before she turns back to her assignment.

Later on the playground Santana approaches the blonde; she's decided that they're going to be friends and what Santana wants, she gets. Something about the blonde is fascinating, plus it would be nice to have a friend who wants to do something other than play Super Mario Brother's.

Even at ten Santana is fierce and she doesn't waste any time getting to the point, "Do you want to be my friend?" She asks the other girl. She doesn't put the word best in front of friend, that will come later, but the way the blonde grins at her makes her feel like she's just offered her the sun or a star, or at least something really cool, instead of just a measly old friendship.

"Do you really mean it?" Brittany asks and her grin only grows and she nods enthusiastically when the dark haired girl confirms that she does indeed want to be friends.

"Well then we have to pinkie promise." Santana tells her seriously.

Brittany's expression becomes puzzled, "What's that?"

"You don't know what a pinkie promise is?" Santana raises one eyebrow at her incredulously, giving her the look she has already mastered at ten, "What planet are you from?"

"Umm…what planet are we on right now?" Brittany replies, taking the question seriously. Santana will figure out later that sarcasm is lost on the blonde.

"Earth silly," Santana chuckles at the other girl, reaching over and taking her hand, "Here let me show you," she tells her as she intertwines their pinkies, "this is a pinkie promise, now you just say what you're promising."

When the blonde doesn't say anything, Santana adds, "Friends," to remind her what exactly they are promising.

"Friends." Brittany mimics, grinning like she's been given the sun again.

The blonde's grin is infectious and as a goofy grin spreads on Santana's face she wonders if maybe she's the one who has been given the sun.


	5. Part 5

**A/N:** **First, I'm sorry that this has taken so long. Second, this part isn't necessarily the end (I feel like there's always the possibility of me revisiting this Brittany and this Santana) but I've sort of written it like it could be. Third, part of the reason that this took so long is that I am nervous, like really nervous, about this part. Last, I just want to provide a warning that this part makes reference to the sexual abuse of a child, although not in detail.**

_**Part 5**_

In the months that follow Brittany's revelation about being adopted, Santana starts to notice that Brittany let's things about her past slip on a semi regular basis. The information and how Brittany reveals it varies, and truthfully it is mostly trivial stuff, or at least what most people's standards would deem trivial, like how her room was green, but Santana collects the information like it is gold because, to her, it is. After all, according to Brittany's mother, the blonde doesn't like to talk about her past much, so the fact that she's giving Santana any information at all is, well, a gift of sorts in Santana's mind.

Of course, Brittany certainly isn't providing the information with the intention of it being a gift. Actually, she mostly doesn't even realize that she's giving the information away at all and, truthfully, it's highly possible that she has been unconsciously providing hints about her past for, well, ever and Santana has only recently started to be able to decipher these hints. This theory at least seems to be the case for some of the information, such as Brittany's revelation in front of the entire Glee club after Artie spends ten minutes complaining about his middle name that her middle name is after her mother. Of course everyone else chalks it up to Brittany being Brittany and accepts the blonde's airy 'oh right' response when Kurt reminds her with a raised eyebrow that her mother's name isn't Susan but Santana knows better.

However, Santana and Brittany are talking on the phone one afternoon when Brittany provides information about her past that falls nowhere near either the trivial or unintentional categories.

Brittany doesn't know why she says what she does instead of just laughing and letting Santana continue to explain how Rachel's choice of outfits today would be more befitting for a five year old, or at least she doesn't completely understand anyway. She does know that she's been building up to saying it ever since the appointment she'd had weeks ago, after Santana had witnessed one of her particularly bad nightmares, with her psychologist. Nightmares like that one and the subsequent trips her parents always made her take to the psychologist always left her particularly reflective of her past for a couple of days before she fell back into her normal state of suppression but this time the thoughts had been holding on much longer than normal.

The truth is that Brittany is fairly certain she knows the reason why the thoughts won't go away, the reason being that, for some strange reason, she wants, no needs, Santana to know. So, she isn't completely surprised that she says what she says; her surprise instead stems from the fact that she hadn't been planning on saying it in that moment, nor does the moment really seem befitting for revealing that kind of information, it just sort of slips out.

Maybe it's Santana's reference to the age of five or the fact that Brittany accidentally saw part of an episode of Law and Order: SVU when she got home from school. Maybe it's simply because they're on the phone and not face to face and the idea of not having to see Santana's reaction is immeasurably comforting; after all Brittany would be lying if she said she hadn't, after deciding that she would eventually someday tell Santana, considered learning how to turn on a computer just so she could provide the information via instant message or, even better, email.

Regardless of why she chooses that moment, the words leave her mouth sounding flat and emotionless and there is no turning back, "when I was five my mom had a boyfriend that always wanted to sleep in my room when he spent the night and she always let him".

As soon as Brittany says it Santana's sure she's forgotten how to breathe, or at least that's what the spots that start appearing in her vision seem to indicate. Her mind races as she puts conversations and actions together to form a picture she doesn't know why she didn't see before now.

She remembers the day that Brittany tells her, "my mother had lots of boyfriends," but doesn't elaborate. She remembers the day that Mr. Schue passes out the sheet music to Johnny B. Good and Brittany leans over and says, "I really don't like the name Johnny." Most importantly though, she remembers the night that before they fall asleep Brittany snuggles into her and says, "I used to not like having to share my bed, but I like sharing with you."

Though Brittany hasn't come right out and said it, there really aren't any legitimate reasons for a grown man to share a bed with a child. That thought, coupled with the memory of Brittany proclaiming her detest of sharing her bed, causes Santana's stomach to clench as if she's just been punched and she's sure she's going to puke. At the pain she almost drops the phone and as it starts to slip out of her clammy hand she remembers that Brittany is on the other end waiting for her to say something, anything.

Santana doesn't know how much time has passed since those words left Brittany's mouth but she certainly knows that it must be a longer period of time than is acceptable to have not responded and so she blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind, "you know I love you right?" She's surprised that the panicked jumble that is her brain has allowed her to speak so clearly and precisely and she holds the breath that she's apparently managed to regain control of as she waits for Brittany to speak.

"I know," Brittany's voice comes from the other end of the phone but her tone is still flat and emotionless. For a moment all Santana can hear is the other girl breathing, until Brittany speaks again, this time emotion starting to seep back into her voice, "I love you too San."

"Good," Santana breathes the word in what sounds almost like relief, "Don't you ever forget that I love you okay B, never."

"Okay," Brittany responds her voice certain, "San?"

"Ya Britt?" Santana asks and she finds herself once again holding her breath.

"Rachel looked really silly today," Brittany starts, "even my little sister wouldn't wear those rainbow barrettes."

Santana lets out the breath she's been holding. Mercifully, Brittany is changing the subject. Santana knows that maybe she shouldn't let her, maybe she should ask if she wants or needs to talk about it, but she doesn't, she just can't really bring herself to do so in this moment. Instead she nods even though Brittany can't see her and responds with, "Tell me about it."

The conversation carries on like that, with the two talking about truly trivial things, until Santana's parents call her down for supper and she has to let Brittany go with a last reminder that she loves her.

Taking her seat at the table, Santana just stares at the food on her plate, she can't eat. Without Brittany rambling in her ear distracting her, the weight of the blonde's words settles back over her and the words themselves keep echoing over and over again in her head until, before she knows it, she's sobbing. Almost immediately, the force of her sobs starts shaking her entire body and her breathing becomes erratic, coming out mostly in gasps. She doesn't hear her father's plea to know what is wrong and she hardly notices when her mother guides her into the living room, sits her down on the couch and takes the seat beside her.

"Santana, honey, what's wrong?" her father asks her a second time kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on her knees to try and get her attention, "did you have a fight with Brittany?" he tries, considering that it would be a pretty large coincidence if this outburst didn't have something to do with the conversation she was having when she got called down to dinner.

"No," Santana manages to answer her body continuing to shake.

"Then what happened?" her father coaxes.

"I can't," she practically screams but the response doesn't come across as angry, only desperate.

"You're scaring me," her mother pleads with her as she rubs circles on the girl's back, "you can tell us anything, it's okay, I promise. Anything Mija, anything."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Santana manages to get out between sobs and gasps of breath and once again her response has an air of desperation to it, as if maybe speaking is actually killing her, "I can't, she…" she stops herself there, she can't tell, it isn't her secret to tell, Brittany certainly wouldn't want the whole world to know. Just thinking her blue eyed, blonde haired, angel of a best friend's name is enough to throw Santana further into panic and, almost without realizing, she begins to mumble, "oh god, she was just a baby, just a baby."

Santana's parents aren't exactly dense and it doesn't take much to deduce that the she in question is Brittany and that 'she was just a baby' coupled with their daughter's reaction can only really imply one terrible thing.

It is with that in mind that her father says what he does next, "You don't have to tell us everything but you need to answer this, is it someone she lives with now?" he asks and he sounds more serious than Santana has ever heard him sound before.

"No," Santana shakes her head, gasping air into her lungs, "no".

"Okay then," her father sighs with what might have been relief, if being relieved in anyway at this situation didn't feel like a complete sin, and he leans forward and embraces her while her mother continue to rub circles on her back with one hand while stroking her hair with the other.

Eventually the violent shaking of her body quells as her sobs die down and her breathing, while still uneven, no longer comes in gasps.

When he is sure that she has her emotions somewhat in control her father speaks up again, "Santana look at me a minute," he pauses waiting for his daughter's teary eyes to meet his, "you have to be okay with this."

Santana's brow furrows and her anguish quickly replaces itself with anger that comes spewing forth, "Okay with this?" she asks incredulously because there's no way she has to be okay with the fact that that devil woman just let someone…she can't even finish the thought.

"Not okay that whatever happened, happened," her father holds up his hands to stop her anger, "what I mean is that you have to be able to be around Brittany without falling apart, you're no good for her if you can't. Whatever she told you, she needs you to handle it. She trusted that you could handle it."

The anger quickly fades back to anguish and Santana wishes it hadn't because the anger had momentarily filled the hole in her chest, "I promised nothing she ever told me would change how I feel about her and I meant that. I won't let this change that," she pauses and adds with certainty, "this doesn't change that."

"That's my girl," her father smile at her, though the smile doesn't really reach his eyes

Santana smiles back, or at least tries too, it comes out more like a grimace, but it's a start.

xxxxxx

In the weeks that follow, Santana does her best to follow through on the promise she made with her father, don't let what was said change anything, and for the most part she succeeds. Being the same around Brittany is actually easy; she should have remembered that it's not being around Brittany that's hard. It's in the moments that the blonde is not by her side that Santana can't help but let herself slip, let the anguish which has now transformed into pure hatred come through a bit. She can't help it when she snaps in class, or purposely picks a fight with her mother, or pushes one of the freshman around just because she can. She knows that this time her anger isn't really going unnoticed by anyone, a fact that cements itself when Mr. Schue awkwardly suggest that maybe she needs to talk to Ms. Pillsbury, but she doesn't really care. As long as she remains unchanged around Brittany, everyone else can be collateral damage as far as she's concerned.

So, that's how things continue until one night when they are hanging out in Brittany's room. Brittany is lying on her bed staring at her ceiling fan and Santana is sitting at the desk trying to do her Spanish homework but really just spinning the desk chair around in circles when, suddenly, Brittany sits up and tells Santana, "You don't have to be mad at her you know."

"At who?" Santana ceases her spinning to look at Brittany quizzically.

"You know who," Brittany responds.

Santana almost responds with Manhands but the way Brittany is looking at her, all serious, makes her stop because, Brittany is right, she does know exactly who she is talking about, "your mother…Susan?"

"Yes her," Brittany nods in confirmation, "you don't have to be mad at her."

"Umm…" Santana's not really sure how to respond. First of all she's not sure how Brittany knows that she expends a lot of energy being angry with the blonde's birth mother, she thought she'd been doing a reasonable job of covering that up around her, and second she's not sure how there could be a reason for her to not be mad at the woman. Finally she says, "Aren't you mad at her?"

"No, at least I don't think so," Brittany responds pretty quickly and seeing that Santana still looks unsure she continues, "she did the right thing, I'm happy, and she did the right thing."

"The right thing?" Santana can't help the bit of sarcasm that slips through in her response because she's not sure what exactly that woman could have done that was right, from everything she's learned that woman was downright atrocious in all kinds of ways at being a parent.

Brittany's quiet for a minute but then she answers, "She could have tried to get me back but she didn't," she pauses before adding, "she did the right thing," for the third time, as if it's her motto and she's not only trying to convince Santana but also herself.

Santana's ashen at this revelation, "she could have…they really would have given you back to her?"

Brittany shrugs at this, "I don't know, maybe," she fiddles with her charm bracelet a minute before she looks up again, "she had to let me be adopted, you know give up her rights or whatever. Now, I have a mom and a dad and a sister and a you who love me and I have Glee club and Cheerio's and lots of other good stuff, I'm happy."

"You're happy," Santana reiterates slowly. The thing is that being happy now is really like saying that she wasn't happy before. Plus, Santana can't see how giving up your parental rights makes you any less deserving of hatred and so she says, "but what about the rest of it?"

"The rest of what?" Brittany looks at her confused.

Santana sighs, hoping she hasn't inadvertently crossed a line, she answers Brittany's question, "the stuff that got you taken away from her in the first place."

"Oh that stuff," it's Brittany's turn to sigh, "I try really hard not to think about that," she pauses for a moment to reflect, "I know she isn't my mom anymore but she still gave birth to me though," she watches Santana carefully and when the girl's brow doesn't unfurrow she adds, "and besides it wasn't all bad."

"It wasn't all bad," Santana reiterates and she wonders when she turned into parrot because it seems that all she's capable of doing is repeating whatever Brittany says.

"We went to the zoo once, it was really nice" Brittany starts, "and sometimes we would go to the park and she would let me play on the swings. It wasn't all bad, that's what I try and remember."

Santana can't help but shake her head and her face relaxes a bit and she smiles at her best friend, "you know you're pretty special right?"

"Yes," Brittany sighs, "I know I'm not…" she lies back as she searches for the word before she continues, "normal."

"Hey that's not what I meant," Santana interrupts her, getting up and heading towards the bed, she's not about to let Brittany talk badly about herself, especially if the blonde has misconstrued something she's said, "I meant you're awesome."

"I know," Brittany answers quickly.

Santana flops down on the bed beside and tells her, "good," before reaching for her hand and interlocking their fingers.

Brittany stares at their joined hands for a bit and fiddles with a piece of Santana's hair with her free hand before she starts talking again, "There's this puzzle at my doctor's office that's been missing three pieces for as long as I can remember," Brittany pauses, "I used to look for those pieces every time I went there like one day they would magically just turn up, but they never did. The thing is though, you can finish the puzzle just fine without them, there's pieces missing but it doesn't matter because you can still tell what the picture is."

Santana doesn't say anything for a moment. She thinks she knows what Brittany's trying to tell her, there are pieces of herself that she can't just reveal, whether she doesn't remember, doesn't want to, or just can't, and she hopes that Santana can be okay with that.

Santana tucks a piece of Brittany's hair behind her ear and says, "okay then," before dropping her head onto Brittany's shoulder and adding, "I like puzzles," and this is the response that Brittany needs.

They lie like that for a while before Santana speaks up again, her voice a quiet whisper, "I can't just not be mad at her."

Brittany squeezes the other girls hand before replying softly, "I know," she moves even closer to Santana on the bed before adding, "it's okay," and this is the response that Santana needs.

Even though it's early, they lie together on Brittany's bed in silence for the rest of the night. The thing is that the silence isn't uncomfortable, it never is, because they don't need words, they get each other.

Santana will never be able to not be angry with the woman who gave birth to Brittany and then proceeded to break her in every way imaginable, no amount of stories featuring zoos or swings is going to fix that, but eventually she will be able to push that anger aside so it's not the first and last thing on her mind every day. Getting from where she is now to the point where she isn't angry each and every day may be a challenge, Santana's not perfect, but that's okay. Brittany doesn't need Santana to be perfect, she just needs her to be Santana, the Santana that she loves.

Brittany will never be able to just come out and say everything that happened to her. It's not that she's purposely keeping things from Santana, it's just that years of learning time and time again that she needed to keep quiet, followed by years of trying very hard to move on and forget, have rendered her incapable of pulling everything forward at once. No matter how hard she tries, she will never be able to string together enough words to form enough sentences to relay her childhood in one sitting. Instead, Santana will have to settle for bits and pieces given to her over years. Not that Santana really considers it settling, after all, she already knows what the pieces fit together to make, Brittany, the Brittany that she loves wholeheartedly and knowing that, well that's all she really needs.


	6. Epilogue

A/N: So...I was pretty sure that I was never going to actually get around to revisiting this story but I was cleaning out some files and I stumbled across this epilogue that I had started a very long time ago. This epilogue not really a continuation of the story per say but is more a snap shot into the future and it's mostly just crazy amounts of fluff. That being said, I still thought I'd add it to the story since it sort of gives you an idea of how I imagine things turned out for this Santana and this Brittany. Anyway...enough rambling...hope it doesn't disappoint.

_**Epilogue**_

Santana wakes with a start. Groaning she rolls over and looks at the clock, the red glow and the numbers 2:01 seeming to taunt her. She flings one arm over her eyes trying to block out the red glow while she reaches to her left with the other arm. When her hand doesn't meet skin as she expects but instead falls flat on the bed she quickly opens her eyes again and looks around.

Brittany isn't beside her in the bed, Brittany isn't anywhere in the room. Santana sits up quickly, wondering if something has happened and that her exhaustion has caused her to sleep through it. She listens carefully and, when she doesn't hear anything, she almost lies back down and goes back to sleep, she's just so tired, but instead she begrudgingly slips out of the bed and in search of Brittany. It really is best that she check – she won't sleep right without knowing where the blonde is anyway.

Santana heads down the hallway and stops at the entrance to the room that had not too long ago been the guest room but that was now painted a soft purple with butterflies adorning the walls. Even as tired as she is, she can't help the smile that spreads across her lips as she glances into the room.

Brittany is sitting in the rocking chair by the window, rocking occasionally but mostly just staring, completely enamoured, with the bundle in her arms. The baby, for her part, seems to be sound asleep.

If someone had told her when she was sixteen years old that someday she would be married to Brittany, that someday they would have a child, she probably wouldn't have believed them. Although she's not really sure why – even then she hadn't really been able to imagine her life without Brittany in it. Santana could watch them, her wife and her week old daughter, forever but finally she whispers a soft, "hey," making her presence known. She takes a few steps into the room and asks, "What are you doing in here? You know the cradle is in our room for a reason right?"

"I didn't want to wake you." Brittany says simply, looking up to meet Santana eyes. "I couldn't sleep."

Santana nods before moving in to the room. She approaches her two girls, kissing the top of her wife's head and then the top of her daughter's head, before she settles on the ground in front of them – she's just too tired to remain standing. She pulls her knees to her chest and inches closer so that she can rest her feet lightly on top of Brittany's – she has an inexplicable need to make contact with her wife and that's the only contact that she can really manage from the ground.

Santana doesn't say anything, she just sits there, content for the moment. She knows that something is obviously up if Brittany can't sleep, especially considering Brittany's gotten even less sleep than Santana in the last week, but, as has always been the case with them, Santana is comfortable with simply waiting for Brittany to be ready to speak. Sometimes it takes her awhile but Brittany always tells Santana what is wrong.

The silence doesn't last long before Brittany, who has gone back to staring at the baby, whispers, "she's so perfect San."

Santana smiles at Brittany words. "Of course she is Britt," she tells her and she means it wholeheartedly. Santana used to think that it would be impossible to love someone as much as she loves Brittany but the second the doctor had placed the screaming baby in her arms, the second those blue eyes had blinked up at her and the wailing had quieted, she'd known that she'd been wrong. She'd never imagined herself as a mother but now, even after just a week, she can't imagine her life any other way.

"Can you believe she's ours?" Brittany asks, looking away from the baby and back at Santana again, her blue eyes searching for something.

"Sometimes I wonder if she's just some exhaustion induced hallucination," Santana teases lightly before getting more serious, "but then I just have to look at her to know. She's beautiful, just like you. She's perfect and she's definitely ours." Santana almost cringes at the sappiness of her words, if any of her friends could hear her now she'd never live it down, but the words are true, maybe some of the truest she's ever spoken.

"Ours," Brittany repeats, her voice verging on the faraway tone it sometimes gets. "San…" she murmurs softly, "Do you ever feel scared?"

Santana had been starting to drift off sitting there but at Brittany's words she instantly snaps to attention. "I guess sometimes I worry that I'm not going to be any good at being a mother but if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it."

"You're not going to be good San, you're going to be great," Brittany smiles widely at her.

"Thanks B," Santana smiles back at her. She watches Brittany carefully a moment, trying to figure out exactly what is going on in her head. "You're going to be an amazing mother Brittany. You know that right?"

Brittany shrugs then, looking away from Santana. "I don't know. I'm scared." She says barely loud enough for Santana to hear.

And there it is, Santana thinks, the reason Brittany can't sleep. She knew she just had to wait for it come out. Santana moves forward, putting her hands on Brittany's knees to get her attention. "What are you scared of honey?"

"I don't want her to get hurt." Brittany reveals glancing away from the baby, her wide blue eyes meeting Santana's brown ones. "I don't want anybody to hurt her."

Santana sighs ever so slightly at Brittany's words. There are so many things that Brittany isn't saying but the words are enough for Santana to understand where she is coming from because she understands Brittany. Brittany doesn't want anything even remotely close to what happened to her to happen to their daughter.

Santana can't stop the spark of anger that instantly ignites within her at the reminder of Brittany's past. Even after all these years, remembering, knowing, what happened to her wife when she was a child, practically a baby herself, is enough to make Santana want to murder someone. Sure she's gotten better at coping with the anger over the years but it never really goes away, it always resurfaces. For now, she quickly stamps out her rage because that isn't what Brittany needs from her – maybe later, if she's not too tired, she'll go hit her punching bag a few times.

"Nobody is going to hurt her," Santana soothes, one of her hands reaching up to touch her daughter.

"You don't know that," Brittany's eyes are full of worry.

"I won't let them." Santana says fiercely. Just the thought of their daughter being hurt nearly gives Santana a panic attack.

"How can you stop them?" Brittany's words are soft again, barely a whisper and laced with fear.

"Oh Britt…" Santana murmurs. Sitting there she thinks about how everyone had assumed that she would be the over protective parent but how Brittany had been the one who hadn't wanted to let the baby out of her sight, the one who had insisted, crying practically hysterically, that they let her keep the baby in her room at the hospital, the one who hadn't been willing to let even her own mother hold the baby yet. Suddenly Santana thinks she understands. A lot of Brittany's actions over the last few weeks are starting to make sense. "Is this what the not letting anybody but me hold her is about?" She asks casually.

Brittany shrugs, "maybe." She chews on her lip for a minute before adding. "I know it makes no sense but I just get scared San. If she's just ours, if she just stays with us forever, we can protect her but I don't know if we can if she has to be other peoples too."

"I know it's hard Brittany but, well, I don't think we can just lock her in a tower." Santana smirks. "Although that sounds kind of appealing."

Brittany shakes her head. "No…I want her to see the world, I want to give her the world. It's just…hard." She sighs.

Santana squeezes Brittany's knees. "Well, she's only a week old, she doesn't need that much of the world yet. We can start slow. I mean, I'm pretty sure your mom isn't going to hurt her, my mom either," she tries.

Brittany shrugs.

"You know how much they love us, right?" When Brittany nods, Santana continues. "Well that's how much they love her too…actually, my mom probably loves her more than she loves me because, as she like to keep reminding me, I'm such a pain in the ass." She adds with a grin.

Brittany grins back. "But I like your ass."

"I like yours too Brittany," Santana shakes her head and laughs, grimacing when the baby stirs at the noise. She breathes out in relief when she doesn't actually wake up.

"I guess maybe our moms can hold her." Brittany finally decides.

Santana worries that Brittany still seems so uncertain but she tries to smile reassuringly anyway. "They'll be glad to hear that. We can just start with your mom if you want, we can call her in the morning."

"No." Brittany shakes her head and her frown disappears a bit. "We should call both of them."

"Okay," Santana nods. "In the morning, we'll call both of them. But, just so you know, my dad isn't touching her until her head isn't breakable anymore."

Brittany giggles at that and Santana is glad to see the smile that darts across her face.

"It's going to be okay Britt. I think being scared is part of being a parent, we'll figure out how to manage it…eventually," Santana tells her. "Or at least we better…or else I'm going to have a ton of grey hair and I can't rock that look."

"But you can rock any look San." Brittany tells her half serious half teasing.

"Why thank you dear," Santana smiles brightly as if she's just been offered the most stellar of compliments.

"You really think it's normal to be scared?" Brittany asks, her voice serious again.

"I do," Santana nods with equal seriousness. "I'm scared of stuff like all the time but being with you makes me less scared because you're the strongest person I know. Just look at everything you've accomplished. You probably could have just spent your life curled in a ball in fear and everyone would have agreed that that was justified but instead you're you. Pure sunshine." It's the truth. Brittany has accomplished so much and she's only gotten stronger over the years. She hardly ever even has nightmares anymore and, until tonight, Santana couldn't even think of the last time that her past had come up. Brittany amazes her.

"I wouldn't have accomplished anything if it weren't for you. I love you so much." Brittany answers without pause, smiling easily at Santana.

"I love you too Britt. So much, I love you so much." Santana returns the smile.

The baby stirs in her arms and Brittany leans down to kiss her cheek. "We're you feeling left out? We love you too baby."

Still smiling, Santana stands up and kisses the baby's other cheek "we love you to the moon and back," she murmurs before leaning in and kissing Brittany on the lips.

"San…" Brittany starts when Santana pulls back. "Thanks. You always make it better."

"It's my job," Santana shrugs nonchalantly. Having a child might change a lot of things but it doesn't change that. She knows without a doubt that she will spend the rest of her life doing whatever is necessary to make Brittany happy because Brittany being happy makes _her_ happy. "Now let's go to bed, I'm tired."

Brittany nods and that's just what they do, at least until the baby wakes them up a few hours later.


End file.
